Kindred (The Watcher Chronicles #2) (4 page)

BOOK: Kindred (The Watcher Chronicles #2)
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"I have already spoken with the new owners," Isaiah informs us.  "They were extremely gracious and said we could have free reign of the backyard where the tree is."

Isaiah places his hands on our shoulders again and we find ourselves standing in front of a massive oak tree.  The tree house built within the thick limbs of the mighty oak makes it look like a miniature apartment complex.  There are two large house-like structures perched on either side of a wide expanse which are connected by a plank wood and rope bridge.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Isaiah pull out his cell phone.  He begins to scan the area much like Mason did once upon a time, and I know he's using the same radiation detection app to pinpoint the exact location of the crown. We watch as Isaiah walks to the backside of the tree.  He kneels down to the ground and begins to move an old pile of leaves away from the base of the trunk.  There is a natural hole there made between the ground and the trunk.  Isaiah gives me his phone to hold while he reaches his hand into the hole.  The hole is deeper than it appears because Isaiah ends up having his arm inside it up to his shoulder.  Eventually, he pulls out the same type of metal box my crown was found in.

Setting it on the ground in front of him, Isaiah releases the catch and lifts the lid.

Sitting within the box, is a pristine silver crown similar to the one I have, with the same intricate fluid markings I know will tell us the name of the archangel the crown belongs to.

"Wicked," Chandler says, kneeling beside Isaiah, staring at the crown.

"Pick it up," I urge him.

Chandler places his hand above the crown and quickly pulls it away.

"Why does it feel like a live wire?" He asks.  "Is that normal?"

"Yes," I tell him.  "It won't hurt you.  It just knows you're here."

Chandler reaches inside the box again and wraps his fingers around the base of the crown pulling it out easily.  Just as mine did, Chandler's box disintegrates into dust.

"I don't care what you say, but
that
was wicked cool," Chandler says of the box’s magical disappearance.

Chandler stands back up, holding the crown out in front of him.

"So, what now?" He asks.  "How do we find my talisman?"

"We should probably find out the name of the archangel the crown belongs to first," I say, turning my attention to Isaiah.  "Will Lilly be able to help us again?"

Isaiah's face looks pinched at my question.  "I was asked to bring Chandler when he had possession of his crown, but only him."

I nod.  "I understand.  She's still not ready to see me yet."

"No, she isn't," Isaiah confirms.  "She asked me to tell you not to take it personally but she needs a little more time to think about what she wants to say when she finally does meet with you."

"Then can you take me back to my house while you guys go see Lilly?"

When Isaiah phases us to my home, Chandler gives me a peck on the cheek.

"Be back soon," he tells me, before Isaiah phases him to Lilly's home.

I walk up to my front porch and sit heavily in one of the rocking chairs.  Closing my eyes, I try to let the events of the day ebb away.

"How are you doing, Jessica?"

My eyelids fly open and I see Lucifer standing in front of me, leaned against the porch railing watching me with hooded eyes.

He's dressed in a pair of form fitting blue jeans and a red t-shirt which looks a size too small, obviously meant to accentuate the muscles on the upper torso of the body he inhabits.  His straight blonde hair brushes his shoulders and there's a day or two of facial hair growth covering his jaw giving him a rugged look.

"As well as can be expected," I answer, wondering why he's come to see me, today of all days.

"I would have thought you would be relieved knowing your uncle is finally where he belongs.  I placed him in the special care of one of my best torturers."

"I don't want to know what you're doing to him," I say.

Lucifer cocks his head to the side.  "Aren't you the least bit interested in knowing the price he's paying for what he did to you?"

"No."

"I find that curious," he says, crossing his arms over his chest, studying me with a critical eye.  "Why not?"

"Because he's dead and no longer a concern to me.  If you don't mind, I would like to keep it that simple."

“What if I gave you a choice?”

“What do you mean by a choice?  A choice between what?”

“Between your uncle’s type of torture.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“I can keep your uncle where he is or I can send him to the Void.”

“What’s the Void?”

“Some people call it purgatory.  It’s pretty much what the name indicates: a void of space where nothing exists except lost souls that haven’t earned a place in either Heaven or Hell.  Your uncle would never find peace there but he wouldn’t suffer an eternity in Hell which is far worse, I assure you.”

“Have you lost your mind?  Why are you placing the responsibility of how he suffers on me?” I ask, not seeing the point in him giving me such a choice.

Lucifer shrugs.  “I’ll let you think about it for now.  But don’t take too long to decide.  There will come a time when it won’t matter where he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“At some point, his mind will break and it won’t matter where he is.  He’ll become completely insane.  At that point, either place will be a living nightmare for him.”

Lucifer continues to study me as I remain quiet in my indecision.

Silently, I’m fuming.  I don’t want to be given a choice.  What the hell is he thinking?  I have to remind myself this is his nature.  This is what he does.  He tortures people.  He might look like a good guy and act like he wants to be my friend, but deep down he will always feel a need to present me with impossible choices, none of them good.

Finally, Lucifer uncrosses his arms and places his hands in his front pockets looking more casual, like he’s an old friend who has come over to have a normal conversation.

"If you don't want to talk about your uncle, perhaps we can talk about that sword I saw you with the other night."

I swallow hard.  "What about it?"

Lucifer grins.  "How did you obtain Jophiel's sword?"

This time I cross my arms over my chest.  "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Lucifer's grin grows wider.  "Yes, I would.  Why don't you tell me?"

"Can't."

"No,” he says, his deep blue eyes narrowing on me, “you simply won't."

I shrug.  "Same difference.  We're not on the same side in this fight."

"Are we fighting?”  Lucifer looks amused.  “And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"I don’t think you’re capable of having friends."

"Possibly not.”  Lucifer shrugs his shoulder like it doesn’t matter to him one way or the other.  “A person in my position has very few people he can trust."

"What about Asmodeus?  The two of you looked pretty chummy together."

"Asmodeus is simply a subordinate, nothing more.  He's too preoccupied with his own particular specialty to be someone I can talk to."

"And what exactly is his specialty?"

"Hasn't Mason told you yet?"

My eyes drop from Lucifer's face with the mention of Mason's name.

"Oh," Lucifer says knowingly, "I see.  He's left you in some noble sacrifice has he?  Thinks you'll be safe from his enemies if he proves to them he doesn't care about you anymore?"

"Astute observation," I grumble.

"Mason and his never ending guilt.  It's his Achilles' heel you know.  He lets it control him far too easily, makes it rather unchallenging to know how to push his buttons when I want."

"He has a conscience, unlike some people I know," I say, feeling a need to defend the man I love from the devil's condemnation.  "Can you feel anything besides hate?"

Lucifer's face softens as he continues to look at me.  "I feel something for you," he admits.  "I just don't know why yet."  He pauses as he stares at me, trying to figure me out.  "Can or would you tell me why I feel so drawn to you?"

"Wouldn't that just spoil your fun?" I ask, having no intention of telling him about Michael.  It’s the one thing I have that Lucifer wants, and I need to keep him coming to me until we figure out what his plans are.

Lucifer doesn't answer my question.  He asks one instead.

"After Mason took you home after Baruch's attack, I felt your pain again," he tells me.  "I was otherwise engaged at the time or I would have come to see what was wrong.  I assume that's the moment Mason left you.  But, the pain seemed to subside into something you could bear rather quickly, why?"

"I can't tell you that," I say, not wanting him to know about my father coming to visit me.  It would be one more clue added to what he already knows in solving what I am.

"Hmm, you're simply full of mysteries," Lucifer says.  "But you know I’ll figure it out eventually.  There isn't much in this world that remains secret to me for very long."

"I'm sure there isn't," I concede, "which is all the more reason for me to tell you nothing."

Lucifer smiles.  "I like you," he tells me, "even if you are just a human."

Lucifer pushes away from the railing.  "Until next time, Jessica."

He phases away and I finally let myself breath again.

 

Chapter 4

An hour later, Chandler and Isaiah come back to my house to let me know Mason has agreed to let us use his villa.  Isaiah takes Chandler back to his apartment to pack some clothes while I do the same.  I pack my overnight bag with two days worth of clothing because I'm not sure how long we'll be staying at the villa trying to make a connection with the third vessel.  My heart beats with excitement, filled with hope Mason will come to see me while I'm there.

The last time I was at the villa Mason and I shared a closeness that propelled us to finally admit we had feelings for one another.  I can still remember Mason holding my hand everywhere we went in his home and how he let me touch the scar on his face as I told him how perfect he was in my eyes.  I desperately want a chance to finish the conversation we were having back then before Malcolm and Malik's sudden appearance ruined the moment.  If Mason could just see himself through my eyes, I feel sure he would finally be able to understand how truly special he is, at least to me.

When Isaiah and Chandler return, they tell me what they learned from Lilly.

"She says it belonged to some archangel named Chamuel," Chandler tells me.

"Chamuel was able to bring peace to almost any situation," Isaiah tells me.  "It makes sense considering Chandler's power to evoke emotions."

"Then it's most likely Chandler has his archangel's crown?" I ask.

Isaiah nods.  "Yes, that's what Mason concluded as well."

"Mason?" I ask.  "Was he at Lilly's?"

"Yes."

I feel like banging my head against the wall.  Why didn't I insist that I go with Chandler?  It would have been the perfect excuse to see Mason again.  But, I couldn't do that to Lilly.  I couldn't be that selfish when she was still trying to deal with the fact I'm the vessel for her father's soul.  No matter how much I would have loved the opportunity to see Mason again, I knew such a selfish act wouldn't have been right.

I call Mama Lynn to let her know I will be gone for a few days.  She tells me to be careful like she always does and Isaiah phases us to Mason's villa.

We find ourselves standing in the living room.  The fire is lit in the fireplace and a tray of food with cheeses, meats, fruits and sliced bread sits on the large wooden table separating the couch and fireplace like someone prepared the area for our arrival.

"Is Mason here?" I ask, knowing who that someone had to have been.

"No," Isaiah says regretfully.  "In fact, he asked me to let him know when you decide to leave.  I don't believe he plans to come here while you're using the house."

My heart falters with disappointment, but I suppose I should have expected Mason's refusal to be under the same roof as me.

I feel Chandler grab my hand.

"Come on," he urges, his face lights up like a kid's.  "Let's go explore."

With Chandler by my side, I discover a multitude of things about Mason's personal sanctuary.  Unlike the last two times I was here, I actually venture outside the villa and discover the grounds contain a formal garden, swimming pool, tennis court, olive grove and child's playground.  I have to assume the playground is for Jonathan and Angela's children but wonder if Mason ever envisions having more children of his own one day.

The thought of Mason holding a child he doesn't have to worry about being cursed makes me ache to find a way to make the vision come true for him.  The pain he suffered having to watch Jonathan's transformation into a werewolf every night broke him in more ways than one.

When did kids even become more than a fleeting thought for me?  The question brings me up short.  Having a child of my own has never been very high on my list of priorities.  But the thought of having one with Mason seems so natural for some reason, like it’s what’s supposed to happen.  I try to shake the image from my mind but a vision of Mason holding our child in his arms lingers.

When we go back into the house, Chandler and I discover a billiard room, gym, and entertainment room loaded with one of the new holographic TV's and a music center, which instantly intrigues Chandler.

Before he becomes too consumed by it, I drag him back up to the living room so we can do what we came here to do, connect with the third vessel.

"Can we eat first?" Chandler whines.  "We haven't eaten since lunch and that was like three hours ago."

"You are such a baby," I complain.  "Fine.  Dig in."

Chandler and I eat from the tray I know Mason left for us.  I'm not sure when he found the time to prepare his home for our arrival but I’m thankful for his thoughtfulness.

After we eat, Chandler sits back on the couch all slouched over and lets out a loud burp.

I shake my head at him.  "Say excuse me," I tell him.

"Excuse me," he says, a Cheshire grin on his face, the poster child of complete satisfaction.

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